If It Turns To Chaos
by louvelune
Summary: AU - Morgana's world has been torn apart at the seams. Everything she ever held dear has been taken from her - she's been destroyed inside out by someone she trusted. When she makes one last effort to fight for the only thing she has left to hope for, her freedom, there's someone there to stop her from losing that twice over as well. Pretty please R&R.
1. Chapter One

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter One._

* * *

'Why are you doing this to me?' Gwaine recognised that instantly as Morgana. But at the same time it didn't sound like Morgana at all. It was a broken plea, weak. Not hard and cold and cruel.

With a fleeting, longing look down the empty corridor and his escape route, he moved closer to the door, careful to avoid the shaft of light cast by the open gap and damning his curiosity all the while. He could see her there, tears streaming down her face, glistening in the candlelight. And she was on her knees. She looked exhausted, fragile even. This was not the wicked sorceress Gwaine had fought before. Who was she?

'Please, just let me go.' She was begging. At that point Gwaine pressed himself closer to the wall as if to melt into it. If Morgana, of all people, was begging then he didn't really want to know who was standing over her. Her hands suddenly came up to her head and she screamed as if in pain, sobs tearing from her lips. 'No please, no!' Regardless of what she had done in the past, the sound made Gwaine's heart twist painfully. He passed it off as the screams of any pretty woman – and he had to admit, underneath her callousness and hate, Morgana _was _a pretty woman – were enough to drive him mad. But another part of his brain, the part he usually tried to kill with ale, told him he was a goddamn liar and that it was something more.

Morgana's screams stopped. And then there was another voice, cold and commanding like he had come to associate with Morgana. 'It seems you have grown stronger sister.' Sister? But that could only be Morgause. And Morgause was supposed to be dead. There was no mistaking it though; she circled Morgana and came into Gwaine's view, Morgause was alive and had Morgana as her prisoner.

'Exactly,' spat Morgana, a little more like the woman Gwaine knew. 'We were supposed to be sisters. How could a sister do this to me? When I thought I had no one else you were supposed to help me. But you used me! You took everything from me: my home, my friends, my family. You destroyed me!' The slap was resounding, causing Gwaine to cringe, and it sent Morgana to the floor. She only just managed to catch herself before her head collided with the stone. All of a sudden it seemed to Gwaine that everything they thought they knew about Morgana had been turned upside down.

'Here's how it's going to be, _sweet sister_.' Morgause sneered. Morgana pushed herself back up to her knees, her lip curled in defiance. 'You are going to let me back into that pretty little head of yours. And then you are going to kill Arthur, and anyone else who gets in my way.' Morgause crouched in front of Morgana, placing her hands on either side of the younger girl's face, muttering an incantation that made her eyes glow gold. Morgana's expression contorted in pain again, her own hands coming up to try and pull Morgause's away.

'No!' Morgause was thrown away with an invisible force, incredibly strong, that Gwaine was sure he felt through the wall. 'No, I won't let you hurt them.' Morgana's chest was heaving with her efforts. But Morgause only cackled when she stood again and righted herself.

'You seem to be tiring there, Morgana,' she giggled, an off sounding giggle that sent shivers through Gwaine. 'How much longer do you think you can hold me off?' Morgana didn't answer. 'Come on, surely you want to help me. These people betrayed you. Why protect them?'

'They never meant to hurt me. They haven't betrayed me like you have,' Morgana protested.

'Uther–'

'Uther's dead.' Morgana shot coldly. Gwaine didn't pretend that Morgana, with or without Morgause's influence, harboured any kind feelings towards the late king. He knew how tyrannical Uther had been and himself would have happily seen him dead. He was sure Morgana was the same; Merlin had told him once – briefly and reluctantly – of Morgana's punishments for speaking out at the hands of her guardian. However, revenge against Arthur and Camelot now didn't seem to be something she was capable of.

'_Uther_ lied to you. Denied you your rightful place as a daughter and a princess. He persecuted everyone like us and he would have seen you executed. And Arthur! Arthur stood by did he not? Stood by and let you be treated that way.'

'Arthur protected me when he could. You know nothing of what you speak.'

'Stop deluding yourself sister.' Morgause's words were harsh, yet she seemed to be revelling in each proverbial knife she drove into Morgana's heart. 'And lets not forget Merlin. That meddling servant pretended to be your friend, but he turned you away when you needed him most, and then he poisoned you–'

'To save Camelot from you!' There was another slap. Gwaine had frozen. If what he was hearing was correct, all this time Morgana had been in some way controlled by her sister, forced against Camelot and Arthur, when all she really wanted was to help them. He slumped against the wall. This was bad. Very bad, and Arthur needed to know about it.

He could escape, now, easily. But with a glance back at the broken princess he knew he could not. He knew he'd never forgive himself for leaving her behind. He had no weapon, no defence, and slim to none chances. He had always liked those odds before, had he not? So gathering the best of his courage he pushed the door wide and strode in to confront the two women.

'Now, don't stop on my account,' he grinned. Inside he was hard and calculating as how best to get himself and Morgana out of this mess, but the glib comments on the outside made him feel better. Getting guards involved in this probably wouldn't be the best idea, so he closed the heavy door behind him, leaving the three of them alone.

'What fun,' Morgause mocked. 'Tell me Morgana, would you like to kill him or should I?' Morgana looked like a frightened child, staring at Gwaine in shock.

'Aw come on now, surely it doesn't need to come to that.'

Morgause advanced on him, hands raised, ready to send him flying across the room or whatever else she did with spells, when Morgana stepped into her path. Morgause stopped as if stunned. 'You would protect him,' she asked. 'You would protect this drunkard knight–' Ok, Gwaine supposed that _may_ be true. '–A womanising, good-for-nothing stain on society.'

'Hey, now that's not very nice!' But amusing, Gwaine couldn't help but laugh.

'Yes.' That was all Morgana said, never moving from in front of Gwaine. With a bark of laughter Morgause asked why. Then Morgana smiled, a coy little smirk and Gwaine swore he had never seen anything more beautiful. He could almost see it: the most beautiful woman in Camelot's court wearing a jewel-toned dress and _that_ smile, entering a feast with all eyes on her. 'Because you said it yourself, sister: Gwaine – so handsome, so selfless.'

Gwaine didn't have very long to be shocked by Morgana's response. Oh, he remembered all right. The first time he heard that, he'd been told by Morgana, or he supposed it was actually Morgause, he'd have to _sing_ for his supper. Morgause had been mocking him then, but it was the way Morgana said it now, as if it were an admirable truth, that surprised him. Not as much as when she lunged at Morgause though.

Morgana managed a fistful of her sister's dress and was able to send them both tumbling to the floor. It was almost clever; Gwaine was sure Morgause had been prepared to fight this battle with magic but Morgana, it seemed, had other ideas. They struggled for a time, until Morgause looked as if she was getting the upper hand and Gwaine hauled her away. Usually he would never lay a hand on a lady, unless invited, but he wasn't quite sure Morgause deserved such a title or consideration anymore. She dodged the swing he aimed at her head, but not the blow to the stomach, and she doubled over in pain.

'You think such crude methods can defeat me?' Morgause spat, raising a hand. But she was blown back again, this time all the way across the room. Morgana had stood, her arm outstretched and eyes ablaze. With one last twist of her hand, Morgause's head cracked against the stone wall and was knocked out cold.

Gwaine could hear the distant rumbling of guards becoming aware of the commotion they had caused. Morgana continued to approach her sister. 'Morgana,' he said but she didn't turn. 'Morgana.' Gwaine crossed to her, stepping between her and Morgause and placing his hands on her shoulders. 'I get that you want her dead. I do. She deserves nothing less,' he told her urgently. 'Can you hear that? That is Morgause's guards figuring out something is wrong between my absence and the raucous we've caused in here.' Their footsteps were heavy in the halls. 'Morgana, listen to me: either we kill her now and get captured, or we run and live to fight another day.' Morgana looked lost, unsure, and there was a dangerous glint in her eyes that said she was willing to die if it meant Morgause died with her. Beseechingly, his hands tightening on her, he asked, '_Please_ run with me.'

In some part of him it wasn't just a ploy to get her to escape because it was right or chivalrous or whatever the Knight's Code said he was supposed to do in situations like this. In some part of his heart he meant it, truly wanting them to make it out of this together for no other reason than to see her safe. It worked though, snapping her out of whatever bloodlust she had been immersed in. She swept a set of manacles from the ground and offered them to him. 'I can't fight anymore,' she said. 'I can't – please, act a prisoner and we can walk out of here.' It might have been stupid to trust her so soon, but Gwaine let her fasten the chains around his wrists without a second thought.


	2. Chapter Two

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Two._

* * *

Morgana was strong, so cold and haughty, as if nothing had changed. She turned down the corridors of Morgause's castle, tugging Gwaine harshly behind her.

'My lady.' She stared down the guards that approached. 'We thought that the prisoner had escaped.'

'Does he look like he's escaped to you?' Morgana snapped, glaring at them from beneath her lashes and pulling on the chain for effect.

'No my lady.'

'So you are still are still standing in my way because…?'

The guard who had spoken turned pale, and it was so very evident that they all feared her. 'My apologies.' He and his companions moved hastily away, almost as if they wanted to run from her. Morgana watched them go, scowling, waiting for them to turn the corner before she started to lead Gwaine away again.

She glanced back at him. He was staring at her, and she held his gaze. 'Something you wanted to say, Sir Knight?'

Gwaine laughed. 'Just wondering if I picked the greatest position to be in, my lady,' he replied, nodding to his bound hands. Morgana wanted to laugh with him. She wished she could be as carefree as he was despite his chains. But to her the castle seemed to be closing in around her, ready to break her once more. In the end she sent him a smirk, masking the turmoil beneath.

When they passed through the castle gates she dropped the chain and unlocked the cuffs; Gwaine let the manacles fall from his wrists a second later. Then silently they moved towards the forest in the darkness.

Morgana was so very strong until they reached the tree line. There she stopped dead in her tracks and for a moment she just stood, still and silent. Then she started to shake, and heart-wrenching sobs wracked through her and she crumbled, falling to her knees in the undergrowth.

She couldn't quite comprehend why he crawled over to her and took her in his arms. She couldn't really comprehend why he was still there at all. But she wasn't going to refuse his comfort, not when it was the only comfort she had, or had had in three years. Finally she was free, and for this moment in time she wasn't alone.

Morgause had already been inside her head when Gwaine had first come to Camelot. She had been there when Uther banished him for standing up to two knights. She remembered he had seemed rough, but good, and he had said that nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are. In the deep recesses of her mind Morgana had held on that. After so long of fighting against Uther it had seemed a confirmation that she had not been wrong in defying him. That perhaps she was not crazy. That she wasn't insane for caring about Gwen or Merlin, or for not believing that having magic made you inherently evil. Morgana wished she could have met him then or earlier, as herself. She liked to think that he would have liked her.

When her sobs subsided and she managed to calm down to the point where she was a teary mess instead of a complete wreck, he began to murmur very softly in her ear. She focussed on his warm, rough voice. 'Morgana, we have to move. Are you hurt?' She shook her head. 'Ok, I want you to get up, and we're going to run. Can you do that for me?' This time she nodded and he pulled away, standing and then holding out his hands to help her. 'Ok.' Still holding one of her hands, he brushed a leaf out her hair before tugging her away into the forest. 'Come on.'

They ran until dawn; Morgana didn't care where they were going and she lost track of their direction after the first few turns. Gwaine had pulled her into the first river they came to; wading upstream until they had begun to freeze in the water, determined to lose anyone Morgause had sent after them. She had collapsed as the sun began to rise in a dreary, cloud-filled sunrise blocked out by the trees. It made her feel a little better to see that Gwaine looked nearly as exhausted as she was.

There was a stream nearby, and Morgana made her way over to the water's edge, peering into the surface to see her reflection. Hastily she began to undo her hair, promising herself that at the soonest possible chance she would destroy every aspect of Morgause that remained, short of clawing off her own skin. Her desperation to tug the pins from her hair was almost painful, and when she got Morgause's ornamental silver comb she ripped it out and cast it into the stream. She scrubbed at her face and her hands. She felt corrupted, monstrous. Still panting and cradling her head in her hand she glanced sideways at Gwaine. 'Where are we?' she asked, her voice coming out as a mere croak.

'I have no idea.' Gwaine seemed to almost enjoy that fact as he flopped back into a cool patch of grass and stared around at the trees. She must have looked apprehensive because he added, 'Lost is good. Lost means we're not dead or captured.' It didn't take a genius to realise that Gwaine would take lost, and maybe even dead, over being a prisoner. 'Don't suppose you want to explain what the hell that was back there.'

Morgana almost scoffed. 'Not really, no.'

'Didn't think so.'

He didn't push. Morgana appreciated that, though she knew eventually she'd have to say something. But not yet, her mind was still reeling in disbelief. She wasn't yet convinced that this wasn't some sadistic trick of Morgause's and she that was still locked away inside her own head.

She had never quite thought through what she would do if she did ever manage to escape. Mostly because she had thought it impossible. Without Morgause and without her old life in Camelot she had nowhere to go. Morgana forced back more tears with a shaky breath. What was she doing? Never in her entire life had she been so unsure. She had always been certain of something, whether it was her stance against Uther's harsh and hate-filled laws, or her determination to be free of her sister. But now, now anything but staying right where she was by the stream scared her to death.

'Why are you here?'

'Why? Do you want me to leave?' came Gwaine's quick reply, though he made no effort to move.

Morgana pulled her knees into her chest and rested her chin atop them. 'No, I mean before you were captured. What were you doing so far from Camelot?'

Gwaine laughed. 'Looking for you actually.' He seemed to be eternally grinning, one corner of his mouth tugged up further than the other in a playful, amused smile. How he could find entertainment in such things was beyond her. 'Stupid really. There'd been no sign of you for a while and it was noted that there was probably far more information to be had in the outlying villages than Camelot, so I volunteered. I don't think they were actually serious when they suggested it.' His grin widened. 'No news is good news, you know. But I got sick of playing soldiers, jumped at the chance to be on the road again. And out of that armour. Really need to talk Arthur about that one, honestly, the goddamn cloak is enough to drive me insane, not to mention–' Morgana laughed softly and he stopped. She couldn't help herself. Most she had met had been proud to wear the heavy, crimson cloak of the Knights of Camelot. Gwaine raised his head a little to look at her. 'There we go,' he murmured, as if his intention had been to make her laugh all along.

Morgana lay back as Gwaine had done. She wondered what would happen now. Would he take her to Camelot to be tried by the king? If so she doubted she would fight him. Perhaps he would leave her here and return to Camelot alone… Somehow that seemed less appealing to her than being his prisoner. She was already lost and unsure; she didn't want to be alone as well.

For the longest time they were silent, resting after the events of the night. Gwaine might have fallen asleep for all she knew, and she was drifting away from consciousness herself. 'It was a spell,' she whispered into the silence. 'Please, you have to believe me, it was a spell.'


	3. Chapter Three

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Three._

* * *

_Morgana lifted her gaze in the darkness. She was confined in a stone room, chains binding her to the walls and rubbing her wrists raw. Morgause stood over her._

'_You are just like me Morgana,' she said. 'You killed him, and soon you will kill Arthur.'_

_Morgana stared at her in disbelief. It couldn't be true; Morgause couldn't make it true. But her older sister faded away into the shadows, revealing the corpse._

'_You killed him.'_

'_No!' Morgana tried to scramble away but it seemed that wherever she turned the body was there to meet her. 'No, you're lying. I didn't!' she cried. But the faceless corpse had her dagger protruding from his heart. And when she looked down at her hands they were covered in blood that dripped, never-endingly from her fingertips._

Morgana bolted upright, her fragmented dreams reforming into clearer memories. The sun was high; Gwaine sat against the trunk of a tree nearby, watching her intently. 'Not a word,' she growled warningly, standing and removing the dark robe from around her shoulders. The dress beneath was tattered and worn and in an instant she had visions of the silks she had once worn. It seemed forever ago now.

She splashed cool water across her face and neck from the stream, and then pushing her sleeves up to her elbows she ran her wet hands up her forearms as well. She stared vacantly into the water, once more consumed with what would happen to her now and trying to forget her dream. Eventually she felt Gwaine's presence behind her, but heading her warning he skipped right over that fact that he must have watched her more than restless sleep.

'So a spell you say.' Ah, so he had been awake. 'How would that work?'

'Do you want me to show you?' Morgana asked seductively, the smirk playing on her lips full of dark humour. 'I promise it doesn't hurt – _much_.'

'We're playing that game, are we?' he said; apparently her taunting wasn't quite enough to disguise her distress and his ability to see through her made Morgana uncomfortable. 'All right, I'll bite.'

At that she dropped the façade completely. One upon a time she would have never given up a game so easily. But he was good. And she _wasn't_ going possess him. Oh, she could if she wanted to. But the searing pain of having someone force their way into your head wasn't something she could easily forget, or inflict.

When she didn't reply Gwaine continued more seriously, 'I believe you Morgana, I know what I saw. I just want to know how.'

'It hurts less if you're willing,' she told him quietly. 'Like I was in the beginning.' She began to pull at the blades of grass around her, absently and nervously ripping them to shreds. 'I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I was scared. I used to have such dreams, and when I found out what I was… I thought Morgause would help me.' Why hadn't Morgause helped her? What had she done to deserve such a sister? 'And then Merlin poisoned me – I mean I understand why now, if he'd just talked to me I would have poisoned _myself_ – But I felt so betrayed at first, and Morgause healed me, I thought I could trust her: she was my sister. She said that she knew a spell that could protect me. I thought she was just being concerned so I let her…'

'I'm not sure how I feel about Merlin poisoning you,' Gwaine said, looking down with a smile and mirroring her actions with the grass.

Morgana gave a shaky and incredulous laugh. 'I tell you all of that, and that bit you're most concerned about is Merlin poisoning me?'

'Well it's Merlin of all people… I mean… _It's Merlin_.' Gwaine laughed with her.

'He did it to protect Camelot,' Morgana offered graciously, shrugging. 'It's Merlin, why else would he do such a thing?'

'Ah, of course.' Their laughter subsided. 'What happened next?'

'It's hard to explain,' she murmured reluctantly.

'Try.'

Taking a deep steadying breath, Morgana began to speak again. She spoke slower now, choosing her words carefully. 'It wasn't like Morgause was just controlling me as she would an empty puppet. She was inside my head, but she also created this shade, this alternate version of me that was filled with hate and cruelty and that could act independently as she would like it to, no direct possession, so to speak, required. I was trapped inside my own mind.' Morgana's throat felt dry, and talking about what had happened made her feel like she hadn't slept in an age. But she continued, determined to finish her story. 'She sent me back to Camelot and for a year used me to try to kill Uther. And for that year I fought so hard against her, but it was like trying to break your way out of a stone cell – impossible. So for a while I just gave up. I know I shouldn't have, but I was so tired and I was getting nowhere. After her last attack on Camelot though, I started to fight again. I was sick of being used, of watching people die, hearing their screams and having their blood on my hands. At first it was moments of control in the middle of the night, and then I was able to destroy the shade. When I finally managed to throw Morgause out of my head altogether, she threw me in a real cell. After that it was the other way around, I'd mostly be in control but there'd be moments when I'd be weak and she could possess me. Then you showed up.' Reliving it all hurt so much that in the end she joked, 'Are you always so good at finding trouble?'

'Something like that,' Gwaine replied, watching her apprehensively as if he was waiting for her to shatter again. And she would. She was so hurt and exhausted and overwhelmed that instead of crying she began to laugh, holding her hand over her mouth like she had just heard the most ridiculously funny thing in the world.

'I– I just… I– oh god.' She barely managed through her giggles and shallow breaths. 'I can't– I can't stop.' That in itself seemed to be entirely and inexplicably funny as well and her laughter became louder. Gwaine just waited. And then, sure enough, she fell apart, her laughs giving way to sobs. Wet tears cooled on her lashes and dripped down her cheeks. 'Oh god, what have I done?'

'This isn't your fault.'

'I–' Morgana choked up again, unable to force out any more words, an explanation, anything. So she just sat there, horrified, frustrated, her tears dripping into her lap.

'Morgana…' She lifted a hand to furiously wipe away the tears. But they didn't stop. Gwaine took her hand in his own, using the other to wipe away the tears. 'Look at me… look at me. _This isn't your fault._ There was nothing more you could have done.'

'I trusted her. I let her in!' Morgana told him. 'I should have– I should… How could I let this happen? What is wrong with me?' Her hand tightened around his as she tried to slow her shuddering breaths.

'Nothing is wrong with you. You weren't to know what she would do.' He tried to coax her into calming down. 'You trusted your sister, Morgana, that's not a crime. You're going to be okay,' he assured. 'You'll be okay, I promise.'

Morgana looked at him so brokenly and shook her head in despair. 'I've lost everything Gwaine.' So Gwaine pulled her back to him, arms protecting her from the world as she cried into his chest.


	4. Chapter Four

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Four._

* * *

She didn't talk much. Of course it wasn't altogether surprising after everything she had been though. Neither was the way she wandered around looking so devastated and dead, however that was more concerning. It wasn't that Gwaine exactly missed the evil Morgana that wanted to destroy Camelot and kill the king… but the Morgana that still had some fight in her was another story entirely.

It was probably the least of his worries between being quite genuinely lost in the forest and the fact that he was with the woman whom everyone else believed to be Camelot's greatest enemy. As such, if he was a good knight he should probably be a) working out a way back to Camelot, and b) deciding what to do with Morgana. The thing was – Gwaine wasn't a good knight, and he had never quite been one for _should_. He was determined to get any sort of reaction out of her, even if he had to bait her into it. Either he started a fight with Morgana or the silence was going to cause him to conveniently impale himself on a stick.

He had tried other ways; god knows he had tried. He'd even tried making himself look a fool. She had barely even blinked, and the sharp, biting comment he might have expected of Morgana, the ward of Camelot – had he ever known her – never came. It seemed that the only way to rile Morgana was going to be to offend her. So here he was plotting the best way to do that.

'What if I said I didn't believe you?' he asked suddenly, and her head snapped up. It was a mean thing to say, and it was dishonest, and probably a whole long list of other despicable things, and it would more than likely start a real fight between them. But hey, Gwaine was going to take what he could get.

She replied that that was up to him, and there wasn't really much she could do about it. But it was the way that she unceremoniously dumped the log she had previously been placing oh so carefully on to the fire, causing the coals to flare and a great plume of embers to rise into the dusk sky that made him smile.

'So you'd just give up?' he hedged. 'You'd what? You'd let me take you to Camelot… You'd let me kill you?' Her scowl was welcome so he pushed further. 'That doesn't sound like you.'

'You think you know me?' Morgana replied icily. Ah, seems he'd found the point of contention he'd been looking for. 'You know nothing about me.'

'It's just, Merlin used to talk about you sometimes.' Yes, when Gwaine had blatantly coerced him into it. 'He said you were quite the force to be reckoned with. Perhaps he was talking about another Morgana, because I really am not seeing it.'

'How dare you!'

'–Some of the knights as well, said that you could beat most of them blindfolded.' Ok, so that was mostly a lie. Well, not the part where Morgana could beat them, but only Leon and Bedivere had had the guts to own up to it. Kay, on the other hand, had denied that particular fact like his life depended on it. 'But here we are,' Gwaine continued. 'And you're sitting around like a pathetic mess. Certainly not the Morgana I had imagined.'

'Did you think I'd just go back to the way I was after three years of imprisonment? You're more of an idiot than I thought.' Morgana sneered.

'Exactly, you were imprisoned for three years–'

'What would you have me do?'

Here it registered with Gwaine that, yes, as he'd predicted this had escalated into something serious. He liked damsels in distress as much as the next lothario-come-knight, but the pitiful princess that needed saving didn't suit Morgana. And it bothered him far more than he would like. 'What would I have you do? Your sister, the person you trusted most, used you. I would have you do anything, feel _anything_. Because that's more than what you're doing now!' He lowered his voice back down. 'I would have you fight,' he implored. 'I would have you furious. Be _angry_ Morgana!'

He was so close to getting up and taking her by the shoulders to shake some sense into her when, with a snarl on her face, she pulled a dagger from her boot and sent it spinning through the air. It imbedded itself in the tree trunk an inch away from his head and Gwaine had the distinct impression that if she had wanted to hit him she would have.

'I am angry!' she shouted.

'Nice to know we have some sort of weapon out here,' Gwaine quipped, shocked for only a second before tugging it out of the tree.

She stared at him for a moment and then laughed. 'I'm sorry.' Gwaine smiled in return, spinning the point of the dagger against his fingertip. She seemed to rethink everything he had just said to her because she added slyly, 'And I don't think I'd quite let you kill me.' Then she smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. 'You couldn't even if you tried.'

'Oh really,' Gwaine scoffed, trying and failing to hold back a grin. 'See I'm not so sure about that. I think I could manage it. I'm far better than those knights you know.' It was a strange thing to be taunting each other about – her death – but her eyes flashed in amusement at his boast and Gwaine thought that teasing her was far nicer than making her angry.

'Are you now? Somehow I don't think they'd agree with that.'

'No you're right,' Gwaine conceded, pausing for a moment and letting her entertain the idea that she'd won. 'They'd never own to it, their poor egos probably couldn't handle the shame.'

'I knew Arthur was in charge of training the knights, I wasn't aware he taught you his arrogance too,' she shot back just as quickly. Gwaine could easily imagine it: years ago, the prince and the lady trading barbs. He could imagine Arthur's indignation.

Gwaine placed his hand over his heart and feigned a look of pain. 'My lady! How could you even think that Arthur has anything on me? This can't be taught!'

She had this laugh that was light and breathy, and Gwaine couldn't quite tell if she was laughing with him or at him. It lit up her face, and made the torment that had hung in her eyes fade away. Even when her laughter petered out, a hint of it remained in the turn of her lips. When she let herself be like this, Gwaine wasn't going to lie, he thought she was utterly enchanting.

'Why aren't you afraid of me?' she asked after a while, with a challenging look about her. 'Most are afraid of me. Of what I can do.' Her fingers tugged at the grass as she said this, curling and uncurling restlessly in a motion Gwaine had seen countless time before.

Filled suddenly with good memories, he smiled. 'Should I be afraid of you?' She shook her head. 'I've seen magic destroy people,' he told her, shrugging. 'But I've also seen it help people.' He could recall the invigorating scent of herbs hanging in the windowsill as they dried, and the sound of whispered incantations, a bright smile and golden eyes. 'I knew a woman once,' he explained, unable to keep the small wistful smile from his face. Morgana watched him carefully and seemed to be searching him for underlying answers. 'She was a healer, with very powerful magic. She was… extraordinary – very beautiful, very kind and compassionate, this whirlwind of life, you know, smart and incredibly vibrant.' He twisted the silver filigree ring that sat on the fourth finger of his right hand, however once upon a time it had adorned her index finger. 'She was the best person I have ever known, and she's the reason I am not afraid.'

'You loved her.' Morgana guessed.

Gwaine laughed softly. 'Not the way you think, but yes. Yes, I loved her dearly.' His gaze flicked back up from the ring to Morgana's ocean coloured eyes. 'You remind me of her so much.'

Morgana was unreadable after that, though Gwaine could practical feel the curiosity radiating off her. Yet she didn't ask any further questions or pry. Then, after dwelling on it for a sufficient amount of time and coming to some conclusion that Gwaine was not privy to, she smiled softly, happily, as her fingers curled around the grass again.

He decided then that he would help Morgana; that no matter what he would stand by her. She had done nothing wrong, and Arthur preached justice, so it was only right that she go free. He pointedly ignored the annoying part of his head that had returned just to draw attention to the bit where he was fast forming a soft spot for the enchantress across from him.


	5. Chapter Five

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Five._

* * *

Upstream from where they had initially stopped was a tower. Partially ruined it sat a little way back from the stream, just under the cover of trees. Crumbling grey stone was covered in great swaths of green moss and vines. So much so that they had not seen the tower until they had practically tripped over it. It was shelter enough when the storms came.

When the rain finally stopped Morgana walked through the darkness and chilling breeze, the silence only broken by the crackling fire. Gwaine sat on the raised daïs surrounding the their shelter, though the far side was slowly being buried by time and leaves and dirt. Illuminated, his back against one of the stone pillars scattered around the tower and one arm draped across his bent knee, he was quite the picture of ease. Morgana leant against the pillar opposite, just watching him.

'You have to go back to Camelot,' she told him finally; they couldn't stay out here forever.

Gwaine smiled and second before he even opened his mouth Morgana expected his smart reply. 'Didn't you hear me when I said we were lost?'

'You haven't even tried.' And he hadn't. Morgana was beginning to wonder why on earth he was still out here with her. Surely they were not _that _lost. If they thought about it they'd be able to easily figure out which direction Camelot was.

'I can't very well leave you alone out here in the woods, what sort of knight would I be then?'

Morgana rolled her eyes, wondering briefly if she was dealing with a child. 'Gwaine, this is serious.'

'Yes it is.' He agreed, all of a sudden quite earnest. 'Morgana, I am neither going to abandon you out here nor am I going to force you to face Arthur.' So she could solve the issue if she agreed to return to accept her brother's judgment? He just assumed that she would not, as if they had actually talked about it before.

But she didn't say that. Instead she replied, 'He's probably looking for you.'

'I'd hope so after all the times I've saved his life,' he laughed.

'Gwaine.'

'_Morgana_.' Gwaine said, in that way that conveyed how he couldn't really believe they were making such a big deal out of this. 'I will see Camelot again. Stop worrying. Or better yet – stop worrying about _me._ You concern me sometimes with your complete disregard for yourself.' That shut her up. 'Get some rest. We can talk about it in the morning.'

'_Hello?' Morgana called through the trees. The mist made it hard to see very far, but she stumbled on, pulling her green cloak tighter against the chill. She almost fell when she came to the forest's edge, eyeing fearfully the tree root that seemed to have purposefully moved to twist around her ankle and trip her up. She had come to a windy field; cool gusts of air swept the fog low across the grass. But this was no farmer's paddock – the slain covered the ground for as far as she could see, and a terrible many wore Camelot red._

'_No!' she screamed in despair. Countless Knights of Camelot had fallen, men she knew and men she didn't. There was Leon, and Bedivere, Kay, and Gwaine. Men who had once protected her. And so many others. All unmoving and cold. Her cries became more broken when she found Arthur, and next to him, Merlin covered in blood. She cradled the lifeless king, sobbing. But no amount of shaking or pleading could wake him._

Morgana bolted up in the darkness, another scream on her lips. Breathless and frantic she studied her hands, but Arthur's blood was gone.

Gwaine had scrambled to her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder. He was asking her what had happened, what had she seen. But confused and scared, Morgana lay back down and cried.

He laid with her, face to face and holding her hand. She was sick of crying, god was she sick of crying. But tonight it was different. Tonight it wasn't despairing sobs because she's lost everything she ever cared about, nor was it broken cries because of everything she's done or been made to do. Yes, she cried because she feared how much truth was held in her dreams, she cried as a sister did at the prospect of losing her brother, but she also cried because she was overwhelmed by the sheer relief she felt. Tonight she cried because of the normalcy.

She often dreamt of Arthur's death, she always had.

But for the first time in _three years_ he hadn't died by her hand.

She told Gwaine this when her tears stopped, her fingers shifting to lace themselves through his a different way. For the weeks they had been out here she knew he had been aware of her dreams since the beginning. She had refused all comfort up till now.

'Short of Morgause, Camelot's enemies are few and far between,' he assured her gently. 'Arthur's done well in making peace with the other kingdoms. It was just a nightmare.' He shifted to prop his head up with his hand, but Morgana alternated between closing her eyes and staring at his throat to avoid eye contact. 'Hey,' she finally looked up, 'nothing bad is going to happen to Arthur.' Their fire was no more than barely glowing coals, unattended and dying. They lit up the tower eerily, casting strange and deep shadows amongst the trees.

'You don't know that.'

'How could it when he has exceptional knights like me to protect him?' Usually a comment like that would have been all laughter and smiles; but Gwaine barely grinned as he told Morgana this, his voice hushed and serious. The lump in her throat prevented her from mentioning how she had seen him dead too. 'Get some sleep,' he told her. She nodded, pinning him to the spot next her with her eyes; Gwaine smiled, and squeezed her hand, assuring her that he wouldn't leave. Finally Morgana closed her eyes. 'Goodnight, my lady,' she heard him breathe through the darkness.

'Goodnight Gwaine.'

She woke before him. And she wandered alone through the trees. The confusion was numbing almost… Like there were too many things to feel so she rejected them all, at least until they wormed their way back inside in an orderly line. And when they did, it became clear to her what a mistake she had made. It was only later that he found her, and even then she didn't acknowledge his presence, preferring to stare into the tress.

'Morgana, what is it?' he asked, voice urgent with worry, like he cared about her. She shouldn't have told him her dreams last night.

She turned away. 'Nothing. You shouldn't act so familiar with me.' Comfort for what Morgause had done was one thing, but those dreams… She had let him too far in. For a girl without a future, it was hardly a smart move.

'What?'

'You heard me Gwaine,' she replied, knowing full well that was not what he meant and trying to be as indifferent as possible.

'I shouldn't act so _familiar_,' he spat. 'So apart from saving you from a living hell and spending however long we've been out here with you, what exactly do I have to do to warrant being _familiar_ with you, _Lady_ Morgana.'

'That's not what I meant.' He had it the wrong way around. It wasn't that she thought herself too good for him; it was that he was completely and utterly too good for her.

'Enlighten me, my lady,' he commanded coldly.

Her heart ached. 'Regardless of what my real intentions and feelings might have been, that fact is Morgause used _this_ body to commit her crimes.' Morgana's voice wavered at the thought of what she had done. 'People will think it was me, sometimes _I_ think it was me. Gwaine, in my dreams it is always me. I think I'm a monster! No one will ever trust me again. Knights of Camelot should not consort with criminals.'

Gwaine's faced softened at that. 'Well good thing I don't know too much about being a knight then.' He placed his hands carefully on her shoulders as if she might break and smiled. 'And you don't strike me, my lady, as the type of woman who cares what everyone thinks.' Morgana swallowed thickly as he placed his hand upon her cheek, leaning down to hold her gaze. 'Where does that leave us now, _Morgana?'_ She could see the laughter in his eyes. He thought her silly, of all things, and for once she did not care.

'I suppose after everything, we should be … friends now…' Morgana said warily, still fearing rejection. Friends: it seemed such an incredibly childish notion after everything they had been through. To voice it seemed even more childish.

'That's better.' He pulled her close and she buried her face into his chest, letting one hand rest at his collar and the other twist in his shirt. 'I promise you Morgana; I will make Arthur listen to you. He'll see the truth. Nothing bad is going to happen.'


	6. Chapter Six

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Six._

* * *

Morgana softly hummed to herself as she collected wood a little way from the camp. It was a lullaby her mother used to sing as she twirled around Morgana's room, putting out candles before bed. She took a breath to continue the next part of the melody before suddenly standing still. There was a soft crunch of twigs to her left; someone was out there. She crouched, pretending to collect more firewood, reaching for her dagger and watching the depths of the trees for any sign of movement. She said heard the muffled sounds again, too calculated to be an animal. They stalked closer and closer as she pretended to be occupied with the wood. Then she stood suddenly, drawing the knife and levelling it at her hunter.

'Arthur,' she breathed in surprise. Her dagger fell to the ground with a muffled thud as she willingly unarmed herself. Knights of Camelot surrounded her and she flinched when she felt the cold of a sword pressed into her back.

'Morgana.' Her brother's voice was cold, but sad. His eyes were filled with loss and anguish as he gazed at her. In that moment, with eyes unclouded by Morgause's influence, Morgana could see that Arthur did not despise her; he _grieved_ for her.

The sword pressed harder. She turned her head to see who insisted on poking a hole through her and then gave a short scoffing laugh. 'I should have known.' Her comment seemed to shock them; they had probably expected her to fight or to threaten. But instead she laughed. 'Sir Kay, such a surprise.'

'Hello Morgana.' he drawled, everything about him radiating arrogance.

'Lovely to see you again, as always.' Her voice was sickly sweet with faked sincerity.

'Come now _my lady_, that didn't sound very convincing. I'm just _thrilled_ to see you.'

This time she actually grinned at him. 'No you're not,' she taunted. 'You always thought I was a witch. Perhaps not so literally…'

'I wouldn't say I quite thought that_,_' Kay replied. 'Aren't you happy to see me again, after all this time?

'Hmm let me think... That would be a no,' she snapped. 'A thousand years would be too soon to see you again. Three years is practically traumatic.' Her loathing for the knight had begun to bubble away inside her the moment he opened his mouth. Though, while her statement was true for the most part, there was a small part of her, after the years of darkness, that was jumping for joy to see Kay.

'You wound me Morgana.'

'It doesn't even come close to making up for what you did to me,' she replied scathingly. Actually, no, she changed her mind. No part of her was even remotely glad to see Kay again.

Kay's taunts fell away and he looked at her with such anger and hatred. 'What _I_ did to _you_, how about –'

'_That_ wasn't my fault!' She already knew what he would accuse her of, the only thing he ever accused her of. And if there was one thing she would always defend herself against, it was that. The vile charge that she could not even bear to hear escape Kay's lips.

'Kay.' Arthur cut, silencing the knight. 'You know full well where the blame lies, and it is not with Morgana, whatever she may have done since then.'

Kay turned to Arthur, the smirk gone from his face. 'Regardless, Sire, perhaps we should just kill her now and be done with it.'

'Or perhaps if you removed your sword from my back I would tell you where Sir Gwaine is.' That stopped them effectively. 'It's him you're looking for, isn't it? Oh don't give me that look Arthur; I haven't done anything diabolical. I merely assumed because I know that's what you'd do for anyone.'

'Where is he?' Morgana looked pointedly at them. 'Kay,' Arthur was indecisive for a beat and then relented. 'Put the damn sword down.'

'Follow me,' she said, stooping to pick up her abandoned bundle of branches. 'I'll take you to him.' She didn't give them a chance to protest, moving off into the trees.

When she reached their camp Gwaine was seated at their modest fire, reclining against a rock. He smiled as he heard her approach, commenting lightly, 'I thought you had been killed or something.'

'And I'm glad to see how grief-stricken you are at my prospective death.' Morgana grinned genuinely. 'Not a chance, it was merely an eventful day.'

'Aren't they always?'

'I brought you a surprise.'

'Did you now?' He looked up and Morgana smirked at his look of shock. 'Arthur!' Gwaine stood and greeted the king. 'It's about time.'

'Here I was thinking we were having so much fun,' Morgana said. The knights, this time Arthur included, drew their swords and Morgana froze.

'Whoa there,' Gwaine said, quickly holding out his arms to stop them. Arthur regarded him incredulously, but Morgana motioned for the rogue knight to stay back.

'Gwaine, ' she said. 'They're right to be wary.'

'You haven't done anything wrong,' he replied, with such a strong conviction that he almost growled the words.

'They don't know that.' She smiled bitter-sweetly and then giggled. 'Perhaps I have you under a spell and you don't even know it.'

'The fact you suggested it proves you haven't.' For perhaps the first time since she had truly met him, he was the one being dead serious and she was trying to make light of the situation.

His words cause her to smile once more, and without sarcasm she told him, 'Your faith in me is touching.'

'_I know what I saw_.'

'What on earth is going on here?' Arthur bellowed.

If her life weren't on the line it would all be utterly amusing. 'Gwaine, it seems,' she told Arthur. 'Is determined to vouch for my innocence.' She swore the only thing that kept Arthur standing was the fact it would be inappropriate for the king to faint in front of his knights.

Turning to Gwaine, the king spluttered, 'You're _what?' _There was a chorus of protest from Arthur's company, of whom there was only Kay and Merlin that Morgana had met properly before.

Staring down his friends, Gwaine was steely in his resolve. 'Just hear us out.'

If she was honest, she was scared, sitting close by Gwaine's side as her told her story. She couldn't bring herself to speak, only sit there, silently praying that everything she had been through, to have escaped from Morgause and come so far, hadn't been for nothing. But neither would she continue to fight Arthur, she couldn't, not even for her life.

'And how long ago was the blow to your head Gwaine?' Kay asked scornfully, the first to speak once Gwaine had finished. He continued for everyone to hear. 'She is a monster who has ravaged Camelot. Not the girl we once knew. She would see the kingdom fall and our king dead and you think we should trust her? It's absurd, I don't understand why we are still sitting here.'

'Not that anyone asked you,' snarled Gwaine.

Kay turned to the king. 'Arthur you aren't seriously considering this madness. After everything she's done–'

'Since when have you been the voice of reason Kay?' Gwaine scoffed. Morgana almost laughed. She had been away from Camelot a long time, and on bad terms with Sir Kay for even longer. But apparently Kay was as brash and stubborn as ever, and she was not the only one who knew it.

'–A blind man could see that this is trickery!' Kay asserted with increasing aggravation.

'Kay.' Finally Arthur spoke, his eyes resting on her. Morgana's breath caught in her throat as she waited for his verdict. 'You are a brother to me, and one of my oldest friends. I would trust you with my life, but in this you are hardly an impartial judge.'

'We cannot trust her,' Kay insisted.

Arthur turned to him. 'Fairness and justice remember? _That _is what our kingdom is built on. We must see if there is any truth in what has been said. With Gwaine as a witness I cannot ignore it.'

'He could be under a spell for all we know!'

'But he might not be.' Arthur caught Morgana's gaze once more, and she wondered if he was thinking the same as she was – to be accused of being under a spell when you were not was a terrible thing, and it was something that Uther had once done to Arthur.

'Sire–'

But Arthur was unyielding. 'Kay, in this I cannot trust your judgement. You _know _why.'


	7. Chapter Seven

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Seven._

* * *

It was a small mercy not being bound in chains like a common criminal. As they packed up camp and snuffed out the fire, Morgana knew she was more than a little sad to say goodbye to the forest hideaway.

They didn't speak as she fastened her cloak around her shoulders, all too aware of the knights' gazes on them. Until, in a huge act of faith, Gwaine considered her dagger in his hand, then walked to her and, his eyes never leaving her the entire time, slipped it into the sheath on her belt. Morgana looked down as he did so, her brows furrowed, wondering what he meant by it. She glanced up, trying to find the answer in his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but when there were no words to be had she gave him half a smile and a slight nod. His eyes flicked over her shoulder to where she had no doubt the others were watching the exchange.

'We should get going,' he said, a little too soft to be announcement for everyone, and brushed by her. Morgana swallowed her nerves and followed.

The miles passed slowly, hour by hour, with little talk. Even Kay kept his biting comments to a minimum. However the looks he kept sending Arthur, almost begging him to reconsider, did not go unnoticed. Walked at Arthur's side, similar to how Gwaine walked at hers. Every so often they would exchange a few words and then Arthur would nod seriously, brows furrowed, obviously taking whatever Merlin had told him or suggested to heart. It seemed that three years had only strengthened the bond between them.

Just ahead of them walked the remaining two knights of the company; Gwaine told her their names were Percival and Galahad. Percival she remembered from Morgause's various attacks on Camelot, the tall and muscular man with a kind nature that not even she had failed to notice. Galahad was even quieter than Percival, and when he did smile it was small and wry. There was roughness about him and in addition to his sword he carried a long curved knife at his hip and a bow and quiver of arrows across his back. Like Gwaine he seemed to only wear the emblazoned cape of Camelot knights out of duty, for beneath it she spied the hood of a more practical gloomy green cloak.

* * *

'Ignore them.'

She had been on edge the entire two days they had been travelling and she was sure they must only be halfway to Camelot. Kay refused to look at her, and Merlin wouldn't stop staring. Her only comfort was Gwaine and she feared that soon she would lose that too.

Morgana looked up at him; his arms were folded and he lent sideways against a tree. 'How can I?'

He stood straight and then approached, crouching in front of her where she sat on a fallen log. 'I don't know,' he replied truthfully.

'This was stupid idea Gwaine.'

He chuckled. 'Probably,' he agreed. 'But it'll work out, you'll see.' He gave her hand a squeeze and she looked up to see Arthur watching them.

'You should return to the King, I think he's concerned for you,' she murmured. Gwaine looked at her and grimaced. But he nodded and let her be.

'Morgana.' Merlin's sharp voice came suddenly from behind her. He had a hard look set on his face. 'If you mean to harm them, _either _of them,' he looked pointedly at Gwaine, making it perfectly clear that he not only intended to look out for his king but his friend too. 'I'll tell you now that I will not let you succeed.'

She considered his words for a moment and then nodded. She had always admired that in Merlin, that no matter what, even when others only saw him as a serving boy, he would go to the ends of the earth to protect his friends. She had once though herself lucky to count him among hers; yet another thing Morgause had taken from her.

With a sad sort of smile she then said, 'It seems that only you and Kay are smart enough not to trust me.' He looked at her curiously, and when he decided she was not going to reach out and blast him halfway across the forest he moved a few steps closer. She took it as an invitation to continue. 'Apparently I have a distressing lack of self-preservation,' she stared at Gwaine, generally finding it hard to figure him out. 'Because his blind faith in me isn't concerning at all,' she scoffed sarcastically. 'Even after what he saw… A normal person would still be wary, or better yet, would not have stayed to help at all.'

Merlin's gaze softened, and though it was clear he would not trust her until there was proof, he did joke, 'Well I wouldn't say Gwaine is exactly normal.' Then he became serious again. 'He can act the fool, but he's never really been a bad judge of character before,' he allowed.

'He's lucky to have you.'

* * *

They came through to the edge of the trees and there, under an endlessly flawless blue sky, Camelot rose before them. A great city growing amid the grassy knolls in all its grandeur, every bit worthy enough to be the domain of Arthur Pendragon. From the centre, behind the imposing walls stood the castle and its towers – lofty pillars of white stone shining in the sunlight, a slight breeze catching the red flags at their peaks. Morgana steeled herself, raising her hood to cast gloom across her face, hardly ready to face the woman she had possibly wronged most of all.

The arched gate opened and they walked on through to the castle. Some people bowed to Arthur as they passed, some gave jubilant greetings of 'my lord or 'Sire.' Passing through various streets, they finally reached the stairs of great palace of Camelot, where Arthur became swifter, sweeping through to the throne room, a smile creeping onto his face. There Queen Guinevere sat at a table inside, the council around her, scratching away at scrolls with her quill.

'Arthur!' she cried happily standing and meeting him with a hug. Pulling away he took her hand with a reassuring smile. Morgana steadied her trembling hands and pulled back her hood. Guinevere stepped back first in shock and then eyed her with suspicion. 'What's going on?' She asked. 'Gwaine, is he…?'

'Safe and sound, my lady,' came the knight's voice from somewhere to Morgana's left. Curtsying to the Queen would have seemed forced and insincere, but in an effort not to convey rigid defiance she bowed her head respectfully to Guinevere.

'What is she doing here Arthur?' Guinevere asked her husband, no doubt noticing the lack of chains that accompanied Morgana. Promising to explain later he turned to Merlin.

'If Gaius is not too busy I'd appreciate his advice. And Geoffrey, when he has a spare moment… Mordred will you go and ask?'

At Mordred's name Morgana's head snapped up. His eyes were fixed on her as he stood by the King in Camelot red. She smiled very faintly, almost imperceptibly, noting silently how very dashing he looked all grown up and in knight's armour.

She truly regretted everything she had done, a feeling that was close to overwhelming her as she stood once more in this city, in this hall, the site of so much of her treachery. But after Gwen, it was Mordred she was the sorriest for. All she had ever wanted was to care for the young druid boy, who had already seen more than his fair share of turmoil. In the end she had only increased his suffering and forced him to choose between those he cared about. She was glad beyond words that he had had the strength to choose Arthur over Morgause's twisted version of her. But hurting him, of all people, was something she could not forgive herself for.

'Leon, take Morgana to a room in the south hall, have two men posted at the door at all times.' He turned to address her. 'You will be held there until a further course of action has been decided upon.'

Shakily Morgana nodded, and with one last sorry but affectionate glance to Mordred she allowed herself to be led away. The modest room was a step up from cell in the dungeon, but the lock clicked shut with the same sort of resounding finality that filled her with dread.


	8. Chapter Eight

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Eight._

* * *

'I want to see her.'

The armory had been empty, Gwaine taking longer than usual to hang up his chainmail just for a moment of peace. The young knight's voice had snapped him out of not one, but the many reveries his mind had been dallying in.

'And Arthur said...?' he prompted, standing up and placing his sword on the rack.

'The King is not the problem,' Mordred replied.

Gwaine laughed, shaking his head. 'The problem is she won't see you,' he surmised. Mordred nodded. Gwaine finally stopped and looked at Mordred curiously but skeptically. 'And what makes you think I have any bearing whatsoever on her decisions?' While it didn't really surprise Gwaine that Morgana would refuse visitors, her denial of him seemed to trouble Mordred exceedingly. Despite Gwaine's scoffing, Mordred stood firm.

'She spent a month in a forest with you. She opened up to you. She returned to Camelot with _you._ Are you honestly telling me you have no influence with her?' Mordred demanded. Gwaine now sent him a slightly incredulous look in an effort to deter him and made no reply. Beseechingly, and in a way that made it hard to refuse the young knight, Mordred added, 'She listens to you.'

With a conceding sigh Gwaine put a hand on Mordred's shoulder. 'I can't promise anything,' he warned. Mordred was right about the time they had spent together, but in that time Morgana had barely mentioned the boy. 'Somehow I think this goes beyond me. But I'll see what I can do.'

He made his way to Morgana's room, merely shrugging at Galahad and Bedivere who stood guard. They unlocked the door without question and let him in – he'd already visited her numerous times in the three days she had been held there.

She didn't look up at him when he entered, no doubt already knowing it was him, so he eyed her critically, trying to discern how she was. She stared ahead, with a look that said she was somewhere else.

'What are you thinking of?' His voice wasn't any more than a murmur, but it was enough to cause her to look over at him.

'Honestly, very little.' She nodded decisively, but smiled. 'The less I think, the less I feel.'

'You're scared?'

'I wasn't going to say, but yes.'

Gwaine grimaced at her response, but he knew she didn't want to talk about it so he moved on to something she'd probably want to talk of even less.

'Why won't you see him?'

Morgana instantly knew whom he meant. 'Gwaine,' she said warningly, her smiled faded.

'I'm just asking,' he defended. She huffed and crossed her arms.

'Why?'

'Because he's desperate to see you and he seems to think _I _can do something to change your mind.'

'He would be wrong.' Surprise, surprise, like he had even expected anything different.

'Yes,' Gwaine pressed on despite her standoffish attitude. 'So I'm asking you why. You've never talked about it; all I know is from Merlin… And I _want_ to know. So I need you to fill in some gaps here.'

She stared out the window and into oblivion. 'It's because I _can't_ put him through any more pain.'

'And refusing to see him isn't hurting him?'

'It won't hurt as much as him seeing me will; seeing how much I still care and then seeing Arthur kill me.' she replied, not coldly, but with a steely tone all the same.

'Hurt him, or hurt you?' he commented, highly suspecting that the later was playing some part in her decision-making.

'This conversation is _over_ Gwaine.' she shot sharply, then pausing with a sigh, obviously struggling to keep her temper. 'You infuriate me,' she huffed like a petulant child, causing him to smile. It was confirmation enough that he was right as well.

'Good, someone has to.' He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He wondered if she had often been comforted in her life; first as the out-of-reach lady, and then the wicked sorceress. '… Arthur's not going to kill you.'

'You can't know that.'

'I won't let him.' Or at least if he could prevent it, he'd die with her.

* * *

They had all gathered around the table, Arthur at its head. Gwaine had spoken, Kay had scowled, old Lords had questioned and Gaius had assured everyone that there was absolutely nothing to suggest he was under her spell. However it all came down to proof. Evidence that she could be trusted and the eradication of all doubt.

First the elderly physician pushed an old tome towards the king, open to somewhere in its middle. 'I believe this to be the spell Morgana may have been controlled by. It supports her story, and I believe Morgause to be capable of such a thing.'

'Against her own sister?' asked one of the Lords.

Gwaine shook his head. 'You did not see them. Morgause took genuine pleasure in Morgana's pain. And the hatred Morgana showed in return… I think she truly would have killed Morgause given the chance. It was no act.'

'The must be a way to ascertain, without doubt, the truth from Morgana.' Arthur said.

'I think I may be of some help here Sire.' This time Gaius placed a small vial in front of Arthur. It held a light blue liquid. 'This was used by the High Priestesses of old to obtain the truth from those they judged. It was used in grave matters, often when it was one man's word against another.'

'It's a truth potion?'

'Yes Sire. If what Morgana says is true then she should not object to taking it.'

Gwaine watched from the edge of the throne room as Morgana was led in and placed before the King. She looked terrified, and Gwaine – who had never been one for nervousness before – shifted anxiously. Arthur himself looked like he would give anything to be anywhere else, and he clutched Gwen's hand like a lifeline. Mordred, ultimately unable to convince Morgana to see him, now stared at her intensely as if he was trying very hard not say anything. Murmurs rustled all through the room, though to Gwaine they might as well been yelling, until at last Arthur called everyone to order. The trial of Morgana Pendragon had begun.

First Gaius gave her the potion in clear view of everyone. The effect instantaneous, Morgana's eyes became a little glassy and she released the breath she had been holding. Then the questioning started. Gwaine could help but clench his teeth as he listened to them ask her what had happened, her intentions, how, all about Morgause, the escape. And then repeat the process in different words. His agitation must have been noticeable because Percival clapped a hand on his shoulder in support. But Gwaine barely reacted, his entire focus on Morgana and not giving into the urge to step in and say _enough_. They had heard enough, surely.

Then finally Arthur held up a hand, a universal signal for silence. For a moment he was lost in thought and then realization dawned on his face. 'You never meant to hurt us, did you?' he asked simply, a small smile beginning to form. Morgana solemnly shook her head, the tears in her eyes unmistakable.

Arthur looked to Gwen for guidance and her assent, and must have found it because he raised his voice to address to fill the hall. 'Morgana, you are hereby found _not_ guilty of treason. Any past actions against this kingdom are deemed the work of the sorceress Morgause. As King of Camelot, I fully acquit you and restore you to the station of Lady of Camelot.' With a widening smile he finished, 'My decision is final.' Standing he approached and embraced her, and after a moment of shock she returned the gesture.


	9. Chapter Nine

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Nine._

* * *

It was a relief to be forgiven. She didn't truly understand it, and perhaps a little like her old self she wondered at Arthur's sanity. But it was a relief nonetheless. There was no fault, no blame; Arthur was ecstatic to have her back, and the entire court trusted their king and believed in him, so they accepted her too. There was a decree issued throughout Camelot declaring her innocence, and Arthur had busily been in and out of meetings, all of which pertained to either her or Morgause from what she'd heard. But she hadn't been there for any of that.

She had been in shock. She remembered Arthur embracing her, Gwen's kind smile. She had been given new chambers, high up in the castle, not too far from the King and Queen's. It seemed that she didn't have to say a word for Arthur to know that a fresh start may be best.

Vast with large windows and lots of light, which, instead of overlooking the courtyard like her old room, looked out over the walled garden she had adored. Light gossamer curtains encircled a huge four-poster bed against the wall. A fireplace glowed, its mantle lined with candles and the flickering lights played across an ornate folding screen. A chaise, wardrobe, a mirror and vanity filled empty corners, a table and chairs stood in the centre, adorned by vases of flowers.

There had been a maid, Sibylla, to help her, but that was hazy. It was all hazy really. The whole week after her trial, punctuated by a few moments of clarity. She had bathed, dressed noting that some of her old gowns were there – her favourites that had somehow been saved, (over the week she'd receive new ones) – and sat down to stare rather blankly at the mirror while Sibylla gently pulled a brush through her tangled hair. The door opened, then closed, Gwen appeared behind her, taking the brush from Sibylla and dismissing her with a nod. Morgana watched Gwen smooth out her damp hair in the mirror, they didn't speak, and a silent tear fell down Morgana's cheek. Then another. And another. Gwen stopped brushing.

Somewhere after the sobbed apologies, both for what had happened and for now being a complete wreck, and Gwen's soothing hug, she was taken over to the bed, assured that she was safe and told to rest. Gwen stroked her hair, Arthur might have been called for but honestly she couldn't remember. Morgana cried until she was empty. And she cried until she slept.

She didn't get up for three days. Gaius assured the King that it was perfectly normal that this should be so, everything she had been through had finally caught up. Drained and hollow, she slipped in and out of consciousness that was mercifully dreamless. She spoke on the second, voice raw from crying, as Arthur sat by her bed holding her hand with Gwen's arm around his shoulders.

'I never got to tell you,' she had begun in a whisper after staring at them for a while, 'How happy I am for you and Gwen. I wish I could have been there.' Her smile was drowsy and faint and Arthur let out a bark of laughter, thick with tears. He squeezed her hand, and told her not to worry about it, just rest. He seemed to understand from that that there were so many things she had missed that she was sorry for, many things she had wanted to say, times she had wanted to be there for him. He understood though it went unsaid.

Gwaine visited her everyday as well, more than once if he could. And at her horrified look when he mentioned him, he kept Mordred away. Without her death imminent she wanted to see him, but not like this. Merlin came on the day after she had gotten up, with a bunch of the purple flowers he had used to pick for her. 'For old times sake,' he said and she had smiled. He had said that there was things he wanted to talk to her about, and promised that it was nothing she need worry over, only that he should have told her before but hadn't and regretted it. He said with a warm smile that it could wait until she felt better. Old friends had come after that, knights she had grown up with, the sons of the old lords. Leon and Bedivere had visited together, wide grins on their faces. They hugged her and joked about old adventures.

She was beginning to feel more rested than tired, and she smiled more near the end of the week, almost ready to leave her room. Arthur was alone when he visited again, looking happy a but a little worn. Gwen had mentioned he'd spent every waking moment discussing things with the council, so it wasn't any wonder he looked tired.

'How are you feeling?' he asked, glad to see her out of bed.

'I'm fine Arthur.' She smiled reassuringly. 'Really. Gaius says my strength is returning and I feel good. Better than I have in a very long time.'

He frowned at that. 'I should have protected you better.'

'What could you have done? Arthur, I was angry and confused, I was stupid. It was my mistake that caused this, not yours.'

He placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her gaze to make sure she listened. 'I'm going to make this right,' he promised. 'It won't be like when our father was king. I'm going change things.' He stumbled over saying 'our' with a questioning look to her, asking if that was ok. She nodded, murmuring how sorry she was that Uther had died. Morgana couldn't bring herself to think well of Uther Pendragon, the bad would always outweigh the good, but Arthur had loved him and that was enough. He smiled gratefully at her. 'I swear Morgana, you will not have to live in fear of persecution again.'

Despite it being everything she wanted, Morgana found herself protesting that it really wasn't necessary. Magic was a part of who she was, but for now she would have been happy to hide it, she was content just to be home. But Arthur laughed and shook his head. 'It's already done,' he soothed. 'That's why I haven't been to see you. It took a little to talk around some of the council, but I _am_ the king in the end. The ban is lifted Morgana. I can't promise you magic will be accepted back by everyone overnight, but it's no longer a crime.'

'But–' She looked up in wonder at Arthur, scarcely able to believe what he was telling her.

'You're happy…?' he hedged, beginning to smile.

She threw her arms around Arthur's neck with a cry of joy. 'Thank you,' she whispered. 'Thank you.'

'It's the least I can do Morgana. You're my sister.' He shrugged. 'I'd do anything for you, you know that right?' Morgana smiled too happy for words. 'Now there's one more thing…' She looked at him quizzically and Arthur grinned. 'One of my knights has been rather _out of sorts_ lately, no idea why. But since he came to Camelot I've conveniently been ignoring the fact that he's a druid so he didn't get into trouble; maybe this news will cheer him up. Problem is, I've got another meeting to go to so I won't have the chance to let him know… I don't suppose, if you're feeling up to it, you could go tell him for me? I'm sure he'd like to hear it from you.'

Morgana rolled her eyes. 'Subtle, Arthur.'

'I'm glad you're back.'

His door was ajar, so silently she pushed opened further and slipped inside. He stood at the window, deep in thought. His cloak lay over a chair and she reached out and ran her fingers over its edge. 'It's suits you, you know,' she said, causing him to spin around abruptly. 'Pendragon red, very dashing.'

She gave a small smile as he stared at her in shock. He was a far cry from the little boy she had once known, very grown up and taller than her now too. His face was solemn from years of hardship, but with the same pale, piercing eyes she always remembered. 'Morgana,' he breathed and she nodded sadly. He crossed the room and enveloped her in a fierce hug. 'I'm so sorry, please forgive me.'

Wrapping her arms around him and holding him just as tightly, Morgana shook her head. 'I am so proud of you Mordred,' she told him. 'You cannot know how proud. There's nothing to forgive.' She pulled away enough to see his face, then cup it and wipe away his tears with her thumbs.

'You wouldn't see me, I thought you were angry,' he murmured. 'You should be angry.'

'No, you did the right thing. That wasn't me.' Morgana remembered the dull sensation of Mordred's dagger piercing her side, vague but also very clear. The shade had screamed betrayal, almost flooding her senses with it. But in the darkness there had been a tether, a thread that had stilled tied Mordred to _her_, not the twisted ghost Morgause had supplanted her with. An anchor that instead of letting her get lost in the shade's fury, allowed Morgana to feel grief for having driven Mordred to such a thing, and then pride for his strength, and then triumph. Mordred's blade had weakened the monster. Mordred's blade had helped free her. 'I'm sorry I didn't see you sooner. It's not that I didn't want to…'

'Gwaine said you just need time to yourself, but I kept trying.' Mordred scowled almost petulantly. 'Gwaine will pay for locking me in here.' Morgana giggled, he had grown up so fast, _too_ fast. It was nice to see him like this.

'I don't doubt it.' Then Mordred sent her an intense look that made her wonder if he could see into her soul. 'What?'

He smiled as if at a private joke. 'You like him.' Morgana didn't dignify that with any answer except raising her eyebrows. 'He's a good choice.'

'And you figure that how?' Sir Gwaine, the worst knight. Morgana was failing to see Mordred's logic.

Grinning now, he told her. 'He'd do anything for you. Trust me, I could tell. It's the only reason I _let_ him lock me in here.'


	10. Chapter Ten

_If It Turns To Chaos_

_Chapter Ten._

* * *

'I'd like to propose a toast,' Arthur called out, gaining silence from the full and merry hall. He stood, raising his goblet. 'To my sister.' He turned and looked down at her, and Morgana couldn't help but smile back. 'I can't begin to tell you how much it means to have you back. I know I am not the only one who has felt your loss these last few years,' he said reaching for Gwen's hand. He looked back out over the hall. 'The Lady Morgana!' and they all echoed.

'This really wasn't necessary Arthur,' she told him after a while of watching lords and ladies and knights all mingle together.

'No,' he agreed. 'But I think we all deserve a party, don't you?' Well, she couldn't rebut that.

Suddenly there was a bang, the large doors flying open. She wore her signature blood-red dress, the colour of the high priestesses, deeper than the scarlet cloaks of the knights, and strode slowly towards where Morgana now stood before the King's table, Arthur and Gwen at her side, as if there was all the time in the world. Morgana stared solemnly at her sister. She could feel everyone in the room tense, and gravitate slightly towards them. She could feel Arthur's hand on her wrist.

'Quite the party sister,' Morgause cooed, looking around.

'What do you want?' Morgana asked sharply, moving to step forward, but Arthur's hand held her back.

'Morgana,' he murmured warningly.

'This is no concern of yours, Arthur Pendragon.' Morgause snapped at him. 'Give me my sister and I'll leave your little festivities in peace.'

This time the knights didn't just gravitate; they all but lurched towards the gap between Morgana and Morgause, each of them placing themselves in the way.

'You forget,' Arthur replied evenly. 'She is also my sister.'

Morgause's face darkened at that.

'Morgause, Arthur has abolished the laws against magic in Camelot. There is nothing left to be accomplished by your vendetta.'

'There is still a price to pay. The thousands dead in years past, the relentless persecution and near extinction of our kind! How can you forgive that? Changing the law now does not undo the wrongs we have suffered.'

'Neither will killing Arthur for the crimes of his father.'

'You naïve little girl,' Morgause spat, advancing fearlessly through the knights and towards Morgana. 'You really think he is any different from Uther?'

'He has already proved himself to be so.' In her periphery she could see Gwaine at her side, hand grasping the hilt of his sword. 'You stand in a room full of the finest of Camelot's knights. Even with magic you cannot defeat them all. Stay and fight. Or leave unharmed.' Morgause stopped still, and for a moment seemed indecisive. 'You cannot win here,' Morgana pressed softly.

A vicious grin curled Morgause's lips, and in a heartbeat she had drawn a long and deadly dagger and levelled it not at Morgana, but at Mordred's throat.

'You think I do not know all your weaknesses sister?' she taunted gleefully, circling Mordred until she had him in a vicelike grip, her blade biting into his flesh. Morgana started forward, but then obeyed the hand on her shoulder, fearful of what should happen if she approached.

'Mordred, the little druid boy,' Morgause laughed. 'All grown up now isn't he? You put such faith and love in him, Morgana. And how did he repay you? Stabbing you in the back. But if the reward is a Camelot knighthood, well who wouldn't betray their friends?'

'That wasn't me.'

'Details. He _thought _it was you, so does it really make a difference? Yet I can see even now you're willing to sacrifice yourself for him. So go ahead Morgana. Quickly though, I'd hate for my hand to slip.' For emphasis Morgause dragged the dagged a little across Mordred's neck, causing him to hiss in pain and blood to bead along the thin wound.

'Stop!' Morgana cried, shaking off Arthur and Gwaine's grips on her and stumbling forward.

'Too easy,' Morgause smirked.

'My lady, please don't do this.' Mordred warned, gasping as Morgause tugged him back. Morgana shook her head, eye's filled with tears. 'Morgana…'

'I'm sorry Mordred,' she whispered, wiping away the tears before they could fall and drawing herself up with all the grace and dignity she had.

'Morgana! Morgana _don't!_' Mordred struggled furiously against Morgause, heedless of her blade.

'Let him go,' Morgana calmly moved towards her sister. 'Just let him go and take me instead.' But in comparison to Morgana's calmness, everyone else was frantic. Morgause's sinister smile grew. With one hand she reached for Morgana.

'Gwaine,' Mordred shouted desperately. 'Gwaine stop her!'

But too late. Morgause's hand closed around her sister's arm and she pushed Mordred away, pulling Morgana into his place, knife now at her neck. 'See? I keep my word.'

'For once,' Morgana replied disgustedly.

'If you all want your darling princess to live through this night, I suggest you do not prevent us from leaving.' No one moved, all eyeing the dagger at Morgana's throat warily, hands grasped hilts with taut white knuckles but no swords were drawn, faces twisted in frustration and defeat. 'See how important you are to them?' Morgause whispered harshly in Morgana's ear. 'They couldn't bear to see you hurt. They _love_ you. Which will make this all the sweeter when I turn you against them again.'

Morgana was being pulled out the hall, the knife at her throat preventing anyone from trying to help her. Once out of their sight, she began to struggle herself. 'You think I'm just going to let you use me again?' Morgana's magic burned through her palm, scalding them both where she tried to pull Morgause arm away from her neck. They had made it several corridors away from the hall; Morgana could hear the clamour of knights following them, trying to find them, defiant of Morgause's warning. Despite herself, Morgana smiled.

When the burning pain of Morgause's arm became too much, she flung Morgana away, sending her into the stone wall. Her palm already welted and blistered, like the red handprint left on Morgause. She knew she should get up and take the opportunity to run, but dazed and gritting her teeth in pain all she could do was brace herself against the blow Morgause aimed at her stomach.

Her attention almost monopolised by her searing palm, Morgause kick managed to result in nothing to Morgana but a dull thud. It also caused her not to notice the figure approaching until he stood right behind Morgause. Long white hair and beard, long red robe, but it was the fierce look in his eyes that Morgana had never forgotten. Unsure of whom to cower from first, and already pressed against the wall, she looked up at them with wide eyes.

Emrys had found them.

She had feared him, she had dreamt of him. The man who was supposed to be her end. Was he here to kill her now? Was he the only one who could not forgive her for what Morgause had made her do? She watched Morgause turn to him, a snarl on her face, but only to be met with the old sorcerer's sneer.

'Leave her be, witch,' he commanded, a deep authoritative tone she had never heard from him before, not even in her dreams. It sent chills through her.

Before Morgause could so much as raise her hand to retaliate, he sent her careening back. It was not hard to see who would ultimately win, and Morgause was not stupid. Hate and fury lining her features, the second she sat up she disappeared in smoke, unwilling to risk her life against the wizard.

Morgana had not moved. Staring at Emrys as Arthur and his knights rounded the corner; upon seeing Emrys they froze too. He held out a hand for her and she flinched, but he did not retract it. In a soft voice, aged and rasping as though he were any old man – another tone she had not ever heard from him – he said, 'I'm not here to hurt you.' Warily she took his hand and let him help her up, though her body tensed ready to run from him. 'It seems I am not _your_ doom after all, Morgana Le Fay.'

And that confused her, but with a quirk of his lips Emrys was moving hastily down the corridor while Arthur came back to he senses, shouting 'You!'

Emrys didn't turn, but Morgana stepped in front of her brother, hand reaching for his shoulder to reassure him. 'Arthur, stop.' Turning and gazing at the retreating man she murmured, 'He saved me,' her voice laced with awe and disbelief.

It seemed Arthur was happy to forget him, hand coming up to her cheek to survey her cuts and quickly forming bruises. 'Let get you to Gaius.'


End file.
